The Ether

by Laurice Elehwany Molinari

  From behind, Vero heard Kane sigh in frustration. “I’m tired of you leaning against me. You’re nothing but dead weight! We should have left you behind!”

  “Go ahead and leave me!” Greer shouted. “It sure beats hanging out with you losers. I don’t need you guys to help me!”

  “Cool,” Kane replied.

  With that, he let go of Greer, and she collapsed to the ground. Luckily, her hands helped break her fall.

  “You heartless jerk!” she shouted up at Kane.

  “How do you like it?” X yelled, as he marched over and shoved Kane to the ground.

  Furious, Kane sprung to his feet and pulled his arm back in one smooth motion. Then he swung his fist hard across X’s mouth.

  “Get him good!” Now seemingly oblivious to her injured leg, Greer sat up and cheered, though Vero didn’t know which one she was cheering for. And he didn’t care either.

  Ada grabbed Vero’s arm. “Stop them!”

  But Vero just smirked and yelled, “Deck him!”

  “We have to get out of here!” Ada cried. “This isn’t right!”

  Suddenly, the fog grew thicker. It was so heavy that it extinguished the torches, plunging the fledglings into darkness. A wet clamminess wrapped around Vero. He called to the other angels, but they were no longer there. Silhouettes began to emerge out of the heavy mist. Vero tried to make sense of them, but they were only shapes without any tangible form. The hairs on his neck bristled.

  Suddenly he heard a strange noise, like the clanging of chains. It was still totally black in the tunnel no matter which direction he looked. Without warning, ear-piercing shrieks emanated from the shadows, like the war cries of men charging into battle. The dark shadows began to swarm, and then the horrifying wails changed to creepy clicking sounds, causing Vero to envision first a locust and then a swarm of locusts devouring a farmer’s field full of crops. A chill rose from the depths of his soul, and he knew he’d stumbled into the presence of pure evil.

  “Ada! Kane!” he yelled, as panic seized him.

  Nothing. The other angels were all gone. No one would be coming to his rescue. And how could he blame them after the things he’d said? Why did he say those awful things after everything they’d been through together? Shame enveloped Vero followed by a feeling of being utterly alone.

  And then, a horrific creature broke through the black void. It had the head of a man with long black hair and a hideous mouth filled with sharp teeth that looked like they belonged to a lion.

  The man’s body resembled that of a locust, but with scales like iron breastplates and a scorpion’s tail full of venom. His fluttering wings sounded like chariots and hundreds of thundering horses running into battle.

  An immense fear gripped Vero — a fear so deep it took his breath away. He gasped for air.

  The creature glared at him with a ravenous look as it came closer, closer. Its mouth full of lion teeth opened, clicked, and then hissed, “Vero . . . ”

  Vero’s legs buckled, and he collapsed under the weight of his own terror. He registered a sudden flash of white — and then nothing.

  22

  THE KING OF THE BOTTOMLESS PIT

  Ve-ro! Ve-ro!” Chanting voices.

  Vero opened his eyes. He was back on earth! In fact, he was in the middle of jumping a track hurdle, leaping in midair as the crowd cheered him on.

  Tack’s shot put throw was still on target for his head. But with lightning-fast reflexes, Vero jerked his head back just in time. The maneuver ultimately saved his life but cost him his balance. He crashed down hard onto the hurdle, which knocked the wind out of him. He was still lying on the ground and holding his side when Coach Randy raced over to him.

  “Vero, are you okay?”

  Vero attempted to sit up.

  “Take it easy,” Coach Randy said.

  Then Tack appeared. “Dude, I’m so sorry!”

  “I’m okay,” Vero managed to say.

  “Thank God,” Coach Randy said.

  “It was so weird. That shot put just slipped out of my hands,” Tack said.

  “Do you think you can run the next race?” Coach Randy asked with a hopeful look.

  “No,” Vero shook his head. “I think my days on the track team are over.”

  Tack extended his hand, and Vero grabbed hold of it. Coach Randy pulled Vero’s opposite hand, and the two of them helped Vero to his feet.

  Coach sighed heavily. “I’m glad you’re okay, Vero, really. It’s just, I had such hopes . . . such high hopes . . . ”

  With his free hand, Coach pulled a sweat rag from his belt and let loose with a loud bellow as he blew his nose into it. “Yes, well . . . let’s get you checked out.”

  “Hey, don’t cry, Coach! You’ve still got me on the team,” Tack said.

  “Uh, yeah,” Coach said. Then he blew his nose into the rag again.

  Nervously watching from the stands, Nora breathed a huge sigh of relief when Tack lifted Vero to his feet. Vero was all right.

  Nora saw Dennis drop his big foam hand as a runner from Lexington Junior High crossed the finish line first, and Danny took second. Seeing her husband’s disappointment, Nora linked arms with Dennis, and together they made their way through the crowd to Vero’s side.

  Clover watched as Blake and Duff stomped their feet, pointed at Vero, and laughed obnoxiously.

  “What a loser!” Blake yelled as Vero limped off the track. “Hey, Danny! You whipped him good!”

  But Danny didn’t acknowledge Blake. He was bent over at the waist with his hands on his hips, still trying to catch his breath.

  “And there goes mommy to kiss his boo-boos!” Duff mocked, as Nora felt Vero’s ribs for any injury.

  What is up with those guys? Clover thought. She had a mind to go over there and let them have it. But they seriously creeped her out. Still, she didn’t take well to people giving her brother a hard time — even though she’d been doing that a lot herself lately.

  Clover thought that if she distanced herself from Vero, then maybe her problems would go away — the problems with Vero and her “overactive imagination,” as her parents liked to call it whenever they dismissed her concerns.

  For her whole life, Clover had had a special awareness, an ability to look at Vero and know what he was thinking. And she could always tell when something was bothering him. For instance, that when he was in third grade and he fell off the stage during a musical number in the school’s production of Beauty and the Beast. He’d laughed along with the audience, but Clover knew her brother was totally embarrassed.

  But she could also see things that she knew couldn’t really be there, like a man in a tree on a wintery afternoon eight years ago, or a raven with red eyes and a rat tail.

  So over the years, Clover had tried to ignore her feelings and these visions. She’d watched endless reruns and reality shows on television. She’d played online games with anonymous gaming partners for hours, or wasted time texting her friends. Anything to distract herself.

  And she’d been downright nasty to Vero just to try and get him to stay away from her, since most of her imaginings revolved around him. But it only made her miss her brother more. And lately, she’d been finding it harder and harder to ignore her visions or feelings. Whatever you wanted to call it, Clover was seeing things.

  And seeing Vero lying hurt on the track made her think about what could have happened if the shot put had actually hit him in the head. What if Vero had died and she’d never gotten a chance to make things right with him?

  Clover stood up and flashed her nastiest look at Blake and Duff. Blake glanced in her direction with eyes that were so icy blue, she was convinced they had to be contact lenses. A strand of dark, oily hair flopped down and covered half his face as he opened his mouth in a nasty, crooked grin. Clover turned and walked away, feeling a chill along her neck despite the heat.

  Uriel bent down and picked up a handful of tiny stones, then let them sift through his fingers. He turned his gaze t
o Raziel, who solemnly looked back at him.

  It’s been centuries since anyone’s gotten past the golems, Uriel directed his thoughts to Raziel.

  The two archangels were now standing in the very spot where Vero and the other fledglings had beaten the golems. Raziel looked around the chamber, which resembled the aftermath of an earthquake.

  It’s the sign we’ve been waiting for. This confirms he’s the one, Uriel wordlessly conveyed to Raziel.

  Raziel nodded in agreement and turned his gaze upward. It has begun.

  As Vero lay on his bed, he kept replaying the events leading up to his departure from the Ether, hoping to reach some kind of understanding about what exactly had happened. What was that scorpion creature whose image now haunted his memories? And what happened to the other angels? Had they made it back to safety, or was he the only one who’d escaped to earth? Would Greer’s leg still be broken when she returned home? What happened between all of them at the end? Why had Vero been so hateful toward everyone? But most importantly, Vero wanted to know why he no longer felt safe in his own home.

  In that dark tunnel, Vero had felt such evil, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to shake it.

  An abrupt knock on the door startled him, and Clover walked in without waiting for his response.

  “Mom said dinner’s in five minutes.”

  “Okay,” he said softly, as his blood pressure slowly returned to normal.

  Clover turned to leave, but she paused at the last moment, looking at Vero with a strange expression on her face. Vero tried to sit up but then grabbed his ribs in pain.

  “Sorry about the meet,” Clover said. “You should have won that last race.”

  “I’m done with track. The doctor said I have to let my ribs heal for a few weeks.”

  “I’m glad they’re only bruised. But it’s probably smart that you quit. It’s become too much of a high-risk sport with Tack out there.” She smiled at him.

  And there it was. Clover had finally cracked open the door, inviting Vero back into her life. Vero knew this was an apology of sorts. He’d waited such a long time for his sister to come back, he’d wanted it so badly. But now as he looked at her sloppy, sideways smile and those green, green eyes, Vero knew he couldn’t tell her the truth. She was better off not knowing all the things he’d seen and learned in the Ether.

  “Tell Mom I’m not hungry,” he said, rolling over to face the wall. “And please close the door on your way out.”

  Creatures formed a circle around Vero. There were three of them, and Vero saw they all looked the same. Each had hollow, black eyes that were sunk deep into their skulls. Their partially decomposed faces were streaked with dried blood, and a few pale hairs sprouted from the tops of their heads. Vero’s white outfit was a stark contrast to their dark figures.

  The creatures threw something black and furry to one another as Vero tried to snatch it away from them. He wasn’t sure what the object was, but he knew he desperately wanted it. They hurled insults at him, but Vero didn’t care because behind them, Vero glimpsed Davina. She looked beautiful in a simple white dress that clasped over her left shoulder like a Roman toga. She was also visibly upset. Her eyes darted around, searching — searching for what? Vero didn’t know. But her worry became his worry. He desperately wanted to help her, but he had to get past these creatures first . . .

  Vero woke up drenched in sweat. It had all been a dream.

  But he knew this dream had meaning. The Ether, or someone from the Ether, was trying to reveal something to him.

  The dream played over and over in Vero’s mind as he made his way through the school parking lot after school. He needed answers. What had the dream meant? Did it have to do with the evil presence he’d stumbled upon back in the dark tunnel?

  The unmistakable sound of brakes skidding against the pavement made Vero’s heart skip a beat. His whipped around and found himself staring down the grill of a yellow school bus.

  “Watch where you’re going!” the bus driver yelled out the window.

  It was Mr. Harmon.

  “Do you want me to file another report on you?” he asked.

  Vero ignored him.

  Tack, having seen the encounter, briskly walked over to Vero.

  “Hey, Wayne!” Tack shouted. “Chill!”

  “That’s ‘Mr. Harmon’ to you.”

  “Well, I’m not on the bus right now, Wayne,” Tack said.

  Mr. Harmon laid on the horn, which startled Vero and Tack, and then they rapidly stepped out of the bus’s way as it drove past them.

  Tack turned to Vero and said, “There goes our ride home.”

  “I was planning to go to the library to study anyway,” Vero said.

  “Oh, c’mon! You’re already the smartest kid in class! You don’t need to study any more. Take your mom’s advice and dumb yourself down a little.”

  Vero walked away without replying.

  Tack chased after him, grabbed him by the arm and spun him around. “What’s your problem? Are you mad at me about the shot put?”

  “No!” Vero said. “I know that was an accident.”

  “Then why don’t you want to hang out with me?” Tack asked. He looked hurt.

  Vero’s face softened. “I’m not mad at you.”

  Vero was feeling angry, but not at Tack. He was mad at Uriel and the other archangels. How could they expect him to keep his two worlds separate? It’s impossible! Oh, how he wished he could tell Tack the truth.

  “You act like you don’t even want to be friends anymore,” Tack said. “Are you hanging out with new people?”

  Vero put both hands on Tack’s shoulders and flashed him a heartfelt smile, “You’re always gonna be my best friend.” Then Vero dropped his hands and walked away. He hoped his words would be enough to reassure Tack, because they’d have to be. Right now he needed to get to the library and try to figure out what he’d encountered in the Ether.

  But as he raced up the library steps two at a time, Vero got the feeling that someone was following him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Tack quickly duck behind a maple tree. Somehow he had the sneaking suspicion that Tack would have to see for himself whether or not Vero was hanging with a new crowd.

  Vero knew Tack had never felt comfortable inside a library. It was too quiet for him. So as Vero entered through the main doors, he hoped Tack wouldn’t follow him inside but just go on home.

  The library was two stories tall with stairs that led to the second floor. Upstairs, row upon row of dark wooden bookshelves formed a circle overlooking the main floor. Vero walked to the second story and immediately pulled several books from the shelves.

  “Can I help you?” a woman’s voice asked rather loudly on the main floor.

  Vero leaned over the balcony and saw Tack spin around to face a thin older woman with her hair pulled back in a tight bun. She was one of the librarians, and she looked just like what Vero would expect a librarian to look like. The woman had a very serious demeanor. She probably hadn’t cracked a smile in decades.

  “You must be looking for the comic book section,” she said.

  Offended, Tack’s eyes narrowed. “Actually, I was looking for something — ”

  “Shhhhh!!” the librarian cut him off and whispered, “We whisper in here.”

  Tack rolled his eyes.

  “I’m not looking for comics. I’m looking for something in today’s news, for a report,” he whispered loudly.

  “That’s called a periodical,” the librarian whispered back. “The newspaper and magazine section is upstairs.”

  “Thanks,” he said in a normal voice, forgetting all about the whisper rule.

  The librarian shot him a nasty look before she turned around to restack some books.

  Vero watched as Tack made his way up the stairs and over to the periodicals, passing men and women sitting at worktables engrossed in their books, papers, and laptops, while little kids sat quietly on tiny chairs, flipping through picture books.

>   Vero sat at a table with a stack of books scattered in front of him. He carefully combed through each one, intently studying them. He no longer cared that Tack was spying on him from just a few feet away, hiding his face behind a copy of The Wall Street Journal.

  Vero had already looked through copies of Connect with Your Angel, Angels and the Bible, and Celestial Beings. But when he turned a page in a book titled Heavenly Warriors, Vero felt the blood drain from his face. He sat back in his chair and looked across the room, feeling dazed. His eyes met Tack’s. Tack immediately put down the newspaper and walked over to Vero.

  “Dude, what’s wrong?” Tack asked.

  Vero didn’t answer.

  Tack’s eyes dropped down to the open book. He saw a hand-drawn illustration of a frightening creature. It had a face like a man but with fangs. His body resembled a cricket with arms wearing armor, and it had claws for hands. His tail had spikes on the end of it.

  Tack read the caption beneath the sketch. “Abaddon, the Angel of the Bottomless Pit.”

  Vero felt his face flush as a shiver traveled up his spine.

  “What are you so upset about?” Tack asked. “It’s not like he’s real.”

  Vero’s face bunched up. “Is that what you think? Do you think angels and demons and everything are just made-up stuff? That the Bible is nothing but a bunch of fairy tales?” Vero asked angrily.

  With a guilty expression on his face, Tack said, “I don’t really think about it much.” He shrugged.

  “Well, you’d better!” Vero shouted, then he slammed the chair back under the table and stormed out of the library.

  Vero now knew he’d encountered Abaddon in that black tunnel. According to Revelation 9:11, Abaddon was the king of the locust-like creatures who guarded the bottomless pit — or the lake of fire. Abaddon was given the task of the Destroyer. He’d set the Great Flood upon the earth, sparing only Noah and his ark. He’d demolished the cities of Sodom and Gomorrah.